Quest's end bk-3

by Brian S. Pratt

  As night deepened over the small town of Quillim, a second stranger rode through the quiet, snow covered streets. He made his way to The Sterling Sheep where he dismounted and secured the reins to the rail outside. Glancing around at the deserted streets, he made his way to the door.

  Inside, he paused in the shadows before the common room and scanned the tables. When he didn’t find who he was looking for, he made an inquiry of one of the workers and was soon heading to the rooms on the second floor.

  Knock! Knock!

  Two firm raps on the door to room eleven, and two seconds later, the door opened a crack. “Yes?” a voice asked from within.

  “It’s me,” the stranger replied. The door opened wider and he entered the room.

  “About time you got here,” Daniel said.

  Disregarding the comment, the stranger asked, “Well?”

  “It’s done,” Daniel replied with a grin. Then as the other man entered the room, he closed the door.

  Chapter Five

  Darkness had fallen on their second day out of Hunter’s Reach. Progress was slower than any of them had anticipated. In fact, they had been told the crossroads were only a half day from the inn where they spent the night before, yet it had failed to materialize thus far. Now they were caught outside in a night that was quickly losing what little warmth the sun had given earlier that day.

  “C…can’t be much f…further,” Chad was saying for the tenth time. Ever since the sun had gone down, he had been making some comment or other to that effect. Glancing to the stars above, he saw a sky all but devoid of cloud cover. If it wasn’t for the fact that his teeth were chattering so badly, he would have enjoyed its beauty.

  “Cold?” asked Bart. In the moonlight he turned his head back toward Chad and grinned. He saw the shadowy bob of Chad’s head as he silently agreed. He was cold too, but unlike the others, Chad was bemoaning the situation.

  His father had always told him that there came times when you were put into an unpleasant situation that you couldn’t escape. Either you pushed on and made it through, or you whined and made the situation worse. Chad, he discovered, could be a whiner at times. Though it mainly manifested when he was cold.

  Turning his attention back to the road, Bart saw an all but imperceptible glow coming from up ahead. “I think we may have arrived,” he announced to the others. Bart couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when he heard Chad give out with a sigh of relief.

  Chad’s relief was short lived for they soon came to realize that the glow ahead of them was coming from a man carrying a lantern. If Bart hadn’t been cold himself, he would have laughed at Chad’s discomfort. Truth to tell, he had been just as hopeful as Chad that they had reached the inn.

  As they continued riding closer, they saw that the man was moving across their path toward the right. Bundled in warm clothes as he was, it was hard to tell anything about him other than he was about six feet tall.

  The man had moved a ways off the road before he became aware of their approach. Stopping, he raised his lantern high as he turned to stare in their direction. “Burdy?” he asked.

  “No sir,” Bart replied as he came to a stop on the road near where the man had crossed.

  “Damn!” the man exclaimed angrily. “Did anyone pass you going north?”

  The others came to a stop behind Bart as he replied, “Haven’t seen anyone else all day.”

  “How far is the crossroads?” Chad asked.

  The man glanced in his direction, glared, then pointed down the road. “Not too much further,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Bart said.

  The man nodded and watched as they rode off.

  When they had put some distance between themselves and the man, Riyan came abreast of Bart and asked, “Why didn’t we offer to help him?”

  “He could have asked for help had he desired it,” he replied. “Besides, what help could we give, if any was in fact needed? We don’t know the area.”

  Riyan glanced back to the where the glow of the man’s lantern continued to move off to their right. “Hope he’ll be alright,” he said.

  “If he’s a local,” offered Soth, “I’m sure he knows the area well enough.”

  “If not,” added Seth, “he’s a fool to go off by himself in the dark.” And from his tone of voice, he had little sympathy with fools.

  By the time the glow from the buildings at the crossroads came into view, they had all manner of theories on who the man was, what he was doing, etc. None of which had any basis in fact.

  The crossroads held little more than a couple inns and other auxiliary buildings that surrounded the junction where their road merged with the one running along the northern slopes of the Tinderlock Mountains. Their tall peaks were but shadows against the backdrop of stars.

  It was quiet as they entered the collection of buildings. Not a person was about and both of the inns were subdued. “Must not get much business this time of year,” suggested Chyfe.

  “I wouldn’t think so,” replied Soth. “What with the majority of caravans dormant until spring.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Chad. “We’re the only ones foolish enough to be out in this.”

  Leading the way, Bart took them to the nearest three story building which had to be an inn. There was no sign out front, but the fact that it was an inn was unmistakable. As they neared the front of the inn and were dismounting to go inside, a voice said, “You don’t want to stay there.” Turning, they saw a man of about twenty years approaching them from across the street.

  “Why not?” asked Riyan.

  “They have a flea infestation,” the man replied.

  “In this weather?” replied Bart.

  Nodding, the man said, “Even in this weather. The owner doesn’t hold much stock in cleanliness.”

  Just then the front door to the inn they were about to enter opened and a portly man stepped out. When his eyes fell on the man who was speaking to them, his face turned into a scowl. “Kirt!” he exclaimed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Bart quickly sized up the situation and said, “He was saying how your inn was infested with fleas and that we shouldn’t stay there.”

  “Fleas?!” he hollered. “My inn is clean and you know it!” Coming away from the door, the portly man quickly moved toward Kirt.

  “Yes fleas!” Kirt yelled back. Turning to Riyan and the others he pointed to the two story building behind him and said, “My inn is the best one this side of the mountains.”

  The portly innkeeper’s face was red from apoplexy. “Lies!” he yelled. He was about to take a swing at Kirt when he slipped on the snow covered ground and fell.

  “What do you think?” Riyan asked Bart quietly as the man returned to his feet.

  “Kevik,” Bart said. “Give us some light.” A moment later light flared from the end of Kevik’s staff. The sudden appearance of light startled both men and the fight that had been about to take place was, at least for the moment, halted.

  Bart took in both men. The portly one, despite the snow still adhering to most of him from when he slipped and fell, bore a neat and trim appearance. The portions of his clothing that were visible in the light showed very little in the way of staining, his hair was neatly trimmed, and had an overall well groomed appearance.

  The other man was another matter entirely. True, he appeared clean, but his jacket was a bit ruffled, there was a grease stain on his right cheek, and coupled with the fact he was the first to start making accusations didn’t sit well with Bart.

  “I think we’ll brave the fleas,” he said. Turning to Riyan he saw him nod in agreement.

  “Ha!” the portly man said to Kirt. Kirt’s face broke into a grimace.

  Bart laid his hand on Chyfe’s shoulder. “It might be best if one of us were to stay with the horses,” he said. Then gave a nod over to where Kirt was still watching them.

  Chyfe nodded. “Don’t be too long.”

  “We won’t,” replied Bart. “Promise.�
� He then turned and walked with the others into the inn.

  “Sorry about Kirt,” the innkeeper said once they were inside.

  “I’ve seen his kind before,” replied Bart as he looked around the interior of the inn. It may not have been immaculately clean, but it was better than most places he’d stayed.

  “He makes me so mad sometimes,” the innkeeper said.

  “Business a little slow?” asked Chad. Besides themselves, there was but one other man sitting at a table in the common room.

  The innkeeper nodded. “It’ll stay this way until spring,” he replied.

  They booked four rooms and had soon returned out front to take their horses around back to the stable. Bart looked around for Kirt as he left the inn.

  Chyfe pointed over to the inn which Kirt had tried to convince them to stay. “He went back inside,” he explained.

  Riyan glanced to the inn and could see a silhouette in one of the windows watching them. Something about the man caused the hackles on the back of his neck to twitch. With Kirt watching, he and the others took their horses around back to the stable.

  Once their horses were settled in, they left them in the care of a young stableboy and returned to the inn. They deposited all but the two saddlebags, the one with the key segments and the other with Kevik’s paraphernalia as well as the magical items, into their rooms before meeting downstairs.

  Riyan and Chad were the first to reach the common room. There they found a cheery fire crackling in an open pit situated in the middle of the floor. The lone traveler still sat at a table eating his dinner. Chad nodded over to a table on the other side of the fire pit, large enough to hold their entire group. Riyan agreed and they crossed over to wait for the others. It wasn’t long before Chyfe and the twins appeared. By the time Bart and Kevik arrived, the serving girl had already dropped off their first round of ale.

  Bart sat in the chair furthest away from the fire, while Chad basked in the warmth the closest chair provided. “Warm?” he asked Chad with a grin.

  Nodding, Chad said, “This is much better.” Lifting his mug of ale, he asked Bart, “How much further do you think it is to Kendruck?”

  “Normally three days,” their serving girl replied from behind him. She carried a tray laden with a platter of beef, three loaves of bread and a mess of tubers. Setting the tray on the table, she proceeded to lay out their meal.

  “Normally?” asked Chyfe.

  “With the snow it’s going to be longer,” she said. “Plus, a storm is on the way.”

  “What makes you say that?” asked Seth.

  “There’s not a cloud in the sky,” added Soth.

  She turned her attention toward them and said, “Old Elma was in here earlier today and her knee was acting up. It always acts up when there’s a storm on the way.”

  Kevik grinned. Such home spun lore always amused him.

  Beginning to help himself to the steaming pile of sliced beef, Riyan asked, “How is the road between here and Kendruck?”

  “Not bad,” she replied.

  “Any inns along the way?” Chad asked hopefully. His comment elicited another grin from Bart which he pointedly ignored.

  “One,” she replied. “But it’s two days away according to the caravan guards that pass through here.”

  “I don’t suppose you know of any shelter between here and the inn?” Chad asked.

  “Sorry,” she replied. Picking up her now empty tray, she said, “Enjoy,” then returned to the kitchen.

  “A night on the road with a storm on the way,” Chyfe said. “Maybe it would be a good idea to weather it here before starting out.”

  Kevik shook his head. “I wouldn’t put too much store in Old Elma’s knee,” he stated. “Such nonsense tends to be less than reliable.”

  “I don’t know,” Chad said then turned to Riyan. “Remember Jenson?”

  Riyan nodded. “I remember,” he said before turning to the others. “Jenson was a farmer who had a bum leg. One day his leg started aching in what he called ‘an odd cramp’. He claimed that a storm was on the way.”

  “Of course no one believed him,” added Chad. “Then the very next day, one of the worst storms that ever hit Quillim rolled through.” When he saw Bart’s confused look he added, “That was before you came.”

  “Ah,” said Bart.

  “But that doesn’t mean anything,” Kevik asserted. “Old people always have aches and pains. Yet storms don’t always appear because of them.”

  “True,” agreed Bart. “We’ll just have to see what develops in the morning.”

  Riyan nodded and started in on his meal. While he ate, he kept casting glances to the lone traveler. From his vantage point he had a clear view of the man. His long dark hair was secured with a leather thong, and his face showed a three day’s growth of stubble. Easily in his late thirties, the man had the look of a hunter. Propped against the table was a bow, not the longbow one would associate with professional archers, but a smaller hunting bow useful for bringing down game.

  The man picked up his mug, drank the rest of its contents, then slammed the mug down on the table. “Girl!” he hollered. A moment later, the serving girl appeared from the kitchen carrying a pitcher of ale. She crossed over to his table and refilled his mug. He then grunted, gave her a couple coppers and resumed eating.

  Riyan caught her eye and raised his mug as well. When she arrived to fill it, he asked, “Who is that man?”

  “Name’s Burdy,” she replied. “He’s a local pelt hunter who came down from the mountains yesterday. He does that every once in a while, though it’s unusual for him to do so in the winter.”

  “Why in the winter?” Bart asked.

  “Because the trader to whom he sells his pelts doesn’t travel in the winter,” she explained. “Also, he only had his horse with him, not his mules.”

  “Thank you,” Riyan said.

  She flashed him a grin. “Anytime,” she said. Turning about, she returned to the kitchen.

  “Guess it got too cold for him up in the mountains,” suggested Chyfe.

  “Or lonely,” added Soth.

  Bart shook his head. “I don’t think so.” Lowering his voice, he added, “Remember, that man we passed earlier was looking for someone named Burdy.”

  Riyan nodded. “That’s right.”

  “But he was almost an hour north of here,” stated Chad. “Why didn’t he meet him here?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t care,” Bart said. “We have our own concerns.”

  Riyan kept an eye on the hunter until Burdy finished his meal and went upstairs to his room. Shortly afterward he and the others finished and adjourned upstairs to their room for the rest of the night.

  The following morning they woke to a western sky full of clouds. “Looks like Old Elma was right,” commented Chad.

  Riyan stared out the window at the cloud cover without comment. Still miles away, there was a chance it wouldn’t come their way. “Might be okay,” he said.

  “I hope so,” replied Riyan.

  Just then the door to their room opened and Bart walked in. Seeing Riyan at the window he said, “Kevik is eating crow right now.”

  Riyan turned to see him sporting an amused grin.

  “What with all he said last night about how unreliable such ‘lore’ was,” Bart said with a chuckle. “Now he’s faced with Old Elma’s prediction coming true.”

  “Still might pass us by,” Riyan said hopefully, though his tone said he didn’t believe it.

  “If we’re caught out in the open,” Seth said as he entered behind Bart, “it could get bad.”

  Riyan nodded. Turning back to the window, he looked out to where the Tinderlock Mountains began their rise a few miles away. Trees covered the mountain’s slopes which would afford them some protection should the worst happen.

  “Maybe we should wait until the storm passes,” suggested Chad.

  Riyan continued staring out the window and all he could think of was how time wa
s running out. If they were continuously being delayed, he’ll never be back in time to prevent Freya’s marriage to Rupert. Coming to his decision, he turned back to the others. “I say let’s go.”

  Chad’s face fell as Bart said, “I was hoping you’d say that.” Turning to Chyfe he said, “Tell the others we’ll be leaving shortly.”

  “Alright,” Chyfe said then turned and left the room.

  “But…” began Chad then stopped. “Oh, very well.” He wasn’t looking forward to being out in the snow again, and definitely didn’t want to contemplate spending time in a blizzard.

  “If the storm hits us,” Riyan said to his friend, “we’ll take shelter in the trees until it’s over.”

  Not looking too thrilled with Riyan’s plan, Chad nodded. “Maybe we can buy a couple more blankets before we go?” He glanced from Riyan to Bart then added, “I’ll go check on it.” Picking up his pack he left the room and headed downstairs.

  Out in the hallway Chyfe passed by with the twins on their way down to the common room. Then came a tap, tap, tap just before Kevik appeared in the doorway with his staff. A final tap sounded as he set the bottom of his staff against the floor and came to a stop. “Meet you downstairs,” he said.

  “Just a second and we’ll accompany you,” Riyan said. Then grabbing his pack, he and Bart joined Kevik in the hallway and proceeded down to the where the others had already taken seats at the same table they had used last night.

  They were alone in the common room while they ate their meal before heading out. Of the hunter Burdy, there was no sign. Halfway through the meal, Chad returned with a bundle of a dozen woolen blankets he had purchased from the chandler’s shop. Though it hadn’t had near the selection one would expect of such a place, it did have the basic necessities.

  Afterward, Riyan purchased more food to replace their dwindling supplies while the others saddled the horses and made ready for travel. Then once the bags containing the newly bought food were secured on the pack mules, they left the inn and took the road east.